The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  ‘Oh, baby.’ Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed at him and hugged him without the carefulness and trepidation of late. ‘I love you.’

  He tried to speak and she pulled back to make it easier for him.

  ‘What is it, darling?’ she asked, gently squeezing his hand and running her other one over the beautiful golden curls on his head.

  ‘I’m … sorry.’ It was obvious that speaking even two words was hard for him.

  ‘Hush.’ She pressed a finger against his lips. The doctor had explained that Will might not be able to remember how he’d got into this situation, but his eyes told her otherwise. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad you’re going to be okay. You had us all so worried.’

  He tried to smile and she could tell even that was an effort. She simply stared at him a few long moments, unable to take her eyes off his, and then she remembered James. Her heart stilled. Part of her wanted to ignore him. She had her boy back now and she didn’t want anything to come between them again, but Will was in this situation because she’d kept him from his dad and if that hadn’t taught her anything, nothing ever would.

  She stepped back a little and then glanced over at James, who was watching them with a look of trepidation on his face.

  ‘Will, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,’ she said, looking down at him again and hoping the shock of meeting his dad wouldn’t be too much on his fragile body. ‘Somebody you’ve wanted to meet for a long time.’

  She nodded to James and he stepped closer so that Will could finally see him. ‘This is James, your dad. He’s come all the way from New York to see you.’

  Reluctant to let Will go, she clung onto his hand but shuffled sideways a little so that James and Will could get a proper look at each other. Neither of them said anything for a few long moments, not with words anyway. But as Neve watched her son and the only man she’d ever truly loved make their acquaintance, a feeling of rightness clicked into place inside of her.

  ‘Hello, son,’ James said eventually, emotion dripping from every syllable. ‘You gave us quite a fright there.’

  Will opened his mouth but no words came out.

  ‘Hey, relax.’ James spoke soothingly, so that even Neve felt the tenseness in her body easing. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world to talk. Right now, you need to concentrate on getting better. You’ve got quite a posse of people barracking for you.’ He leaned in closer and winked. ‘And as for Stacey, well, let’s just say you have good taste in women. Must get that from me.’

  Neve’s insides twisted at James’s words as a flicker of a smile appeared on Will’s face. Did good taste mean her?

  She silently scolded herself the moment the thought appeared in her head. Even if he’d once felt something for her, after what she’d done, the only hope she had was that they could go forward together as co-parents, and that in time both James and Will would forgive her.

  As if he could read her mind, Will’s hand moved in hers and she met his eyes. ‘Yes, honey?’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Those two words, the first clear ones Will had managed since coming out of the coma, warmed her heart like nothing ever had before.

  She smiled back at him. ‘Better late than never, hey?’

  ‘Will is likely to tire very quickly over the next few days,’ Dr Mortein said, interrupting the moment; Neve had all but forgotten he was there. ‘I suggest one-on-one visits for the next twenty-four hours and ask that you don’t overexcite him.’

  Oh dear. Perhaps they should have waited to introduce James. But it was too late and Neve felt certain that meeting his dad would give Will added incentive to get better. Still, Dr Mortein knew best, so as reluctant as she was to leave her boy, she stood.

  ‘I’ll go and tell Nan and Pop how you’re doing,’ she said, giving Will’s hand another squeeze before letting it go. Unspoken was the acknowledgement that she was giving him and James some long-awaited time to get to know each other.

  Still, James looked at her questioningly. Are you sure? he silently asked, showing that he knew how hard it was for her to leave Will after being so close to losing him.

  She nodded and offered a grateful smile. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

  With those words, she strode the few metres to the exit and into the waiting room to find Flick and Emma there with all their extras. Even Zoe appeared to have taken time out from her wedding planning to come and share the good news.

  ‘He’s awake,’ she told them, unable to keep her voice down despite her consciousness of the strangers in the waiting room. Her friends applauded.

  Then, Flick and Emma opened their arms wide and Neve launched herself into them.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Emma

  They say when you are near death that your life flashes before you in a series of snapshots, and as that felt like what was happening to Emma now, she feared the operation was not going according to plan. She hovered outside her own body and watched, like a fly on the wall—as if anyone would ever let a pesky insect get as far as a hospital operating theatre—as the team of people in aqua scrubs surrounding her grew frantic.

  One of them swore. Machines and monitors beeped. All hell broke loose.

  Yet, feeling astonishingly calm, Emma peered past the doctors and nurses to look down on herself. She was mildly appalled to be able to see right into her head. Someone had shaved off a huge patch of her beautiful long hair, but she could barely bring herself to care. The gaping hole in the side of her head where the surgeon had sawed into her skull should have hurt like hell, but it didn’t.

  Instead a strange force was tugging at her.

  The medical staff spoke frantically to each other, talking about her as if she wasn’t even there, but it wasn’t their voices she heard calling. Was that her mother? Her grandmother, who had also died of breast cancer when Emma was just a child? She hadn’t heard either of their voices in so long.

  As their voices grew stronger, clearer, louder, a blinding white light appeared above, drawing her to it like a magnet. She felt her soul being sucked up as the sensation of whooshing down a tunnel at great speed took over. The light at the end flickered—getting stronger and then fainter, over and over and over again.

  Being in the tunnel made her think of Caleb—and how as a little boy, he’d begged her and Max so many times to drive through the tunnel in the city. This and a hundred other strange thoughts entered her head. Like, had she remembered to put the bin out yesterday?

  Max appeared at the edge of her vision, looking exactly the way he had when she’d first met him all those years ago. As Emma travelled closer to the light, pretty much every person that had ever had the slightest impact on her life made an appearance. Her friends, people she’d worked with, children of her friends and then finally, her own children.

  This could only mean one thing.

  Who would be the one to break the news to them? Who would comfort them? She’d never see them graduate. Choose careers. Get married.

  She thought of Caleb, so tall, so strong, so grown up in some ways, but always a little boy to her, and she sent him a silent message, hoping that somehow he’d hear it.

  I love you, sweetheart. Look after the girls. Work hard, be honest and kind. I know someday you’ll make a wonderful doctor.

  And then she thought of the twins—physically alike in every possible way, but as different as chalk and cheese in personality. Yet in spite of their differences, they’d always been the best of friends and she hoped their closeness would get them through the struggles ahead.

  Stay strong, my lovelies. Continue to grow into independent women and never let anyone walk over you. Only give your heart to men who deserve it.

  That advice made her think of Patrick. Wonderful, lovely, sexy Patrick, who she now had to admit meant much, much more to her than a boss ever should.

  The light grew closer and her mum’s silhouette at the end of the tunnel became sharper. Now she could see her properly—waiting there
, arms outstretched, a smile on her face and her body free of the cancer that had taken her from them.

  ‘Mum!’ Emma desperately wanted to reach out, to once again take comfort in her mother’s arms. But another equally strong part of her wanted to resist. She wasn’t ready to go yet.

  Two invisible forces yanked at her from opposite directions.

  Then a voice called distantly from the entrance of the tunnel. Patrick’s voice, begging her to come back. And she wanted to, oh boy did she want to, but tiredness overwhelmed her. Was she strong enough to fight it?

  Suddenly, a shock jolted her body; she felt as if she’d been plunged into a pool of ice. And then everything went black again.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Felicity

  ‘If I never see another hospital waiting room as long as I live, it will be too soon,’ Flick whispered to Neve, who was sitting beside her on yet another hard plastic chair, nursing yet another cup of wannabe coffee.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Neve replied, tapping her high heels on the floor.

  Today was the first time she’d left Will’s bedside for longer than it took to go home and shower, but she appeared relaxed in the knowledge that James would be with their son. Between all their different dramas, the two friends hadn’t had a lot of time to talk, but from what Flick gathered, things with James had gone a lot better than expected.

  She had met him at the hospital and already liked him a lot. Quite aside from his looks, it was easy to see how someone could fall in love with his personality. Privately she worried that Neve was halfway to falling in love with him all over again, and that once Will was fully recovered and out of hospital, James’s fury over what she’d done might return.

  Neve wasn’t the only one trying to burn up nervous energy while they waited for Emma to come out of brain surgery. On the other side of Flick, Toby and Caleb were playing games on their phones, occasionally grunting at each other in the way that teenaged boys do. Next to Neve were Laura and Louise, leaning against each other as they listened to music from the same phone, one earbud for each of them. They were tapping their shoes to the beat, which Flick could also hear due to how loud they had it playing. Under normal circumstances, she’d have told them to turn it down, but today she kept her mouth shut.

  It was Monday and even though Emma’s children had already had two weeks off school in Hawaii, they’d begged their parents for another day so they could be close while Emma went under the knife. That the kids could have one more day might have been the first thing Max and Emma had agreed on since they’d split.

  When Toby asked if he could come to support Caleb and the girls, Flick and Seb hadn’t argued either. Truth was, after the emotional upheaval of the last few days, Flick wanted the kids close—and it was unlikely any lessons learnt at school would register today anyway. Flick wouldn’t have been able to stay home in her studio and try to create, so how could she expect Toby to go to school? Zoe had a class at uni she couldn’t miss but had already texted Flick five times asking if there was any news. On another row of plastic chairs, only a few feet away, staring aimlessly up at some midday movie on the TV, were Seb, Max and Patrick.

  Flick wasn’t sure who she’d been more surprised to see—Max or Patrick. According to Emma, her ex-husband had been very supportive and sympathetic when she’d told him about the tumour, but it was still a little weird to have him here after so many years of him being the bad guy. Thank God Chanel hadn’t decided to join the waiting party. Although Patrick had introduced himself to Max as Emma’s boss, it had been impossible to miss the flash of wariness in Max’s eyes when they’d shaken hands. She guessed he suspected as much as she did that Patrick wasn’t quite this attentive with all his employees. Was he jealous of a possible relationship between Emma and Patrick? Whatever the reason, an undeniable friction buzzed between the two men, so that Seb had landed the unofficial role of peacekeeper.

  When a tall figure in scrubs appeared in the doorway and surveyed the waiting crowd, Flick’s eyes jolted away from Patrick and Max. Every head in the room snapped up, hoping this man would bring good news of their loved one, but when he strode past Flick over to a couple of strangers, she slumped back into her seat and surreptitiously glanced at her watch. News of Emma’s surgery should be imminent; according to the surgeon’s words that morning, she should have been in recovery for a few hours already. Ice crept into Flick’s heart at the possibility that maybe the operation hadn’t gone as smoothly as hoped.

  When Neve nudged her, Flick looked sideways to see her friend biting her lip and offering a questioning glance. They exchanged a whole conversation with their eyes, neither wanting to alert the kids to the fact that they were starting to worry.

  Then Max stood, stretched his arms wide and turned around to face them. ‘Shouldn’t Em be in recovery by now?’ he boomed, his voice loud enough for all and sundry to hear. He sounded more annoyed that he was having to wait longer than anticipated, than worried about his ex.

  Flick clenched her jaw tightly. So much for protecting the children.

  Seb and Patrick stood and also turned to the group. Caleb and Toby looked up from their phones, the twins tugged the buds out of their ears and all four kids stood to join the adults.

  ‘Do you think something’s gone wrong?’ Laura asked. She and Louise clung to each other, twin expressions of worry on their faces and their lower lips quivering. They were both trying very hard not to cry.

  ‘Who knows?’ Max shrugged one shoulder and Flick resisted the urge to rip off her shoe and throw it at him. ‘Maybe I could ask someone.’ He looked around but there was no one in the waiting room but other families in the same situation as them.

  Thank God Emma had refused him the honour of being listed as her next of kin. As her children were under-age and she didn’t want Caleb, Louise or Laura to be the ones to receive any bad news directly, she’d named Flick and Neve instead. The hospital had their phone numbers and they would be the first to hear any news of Emma—whether it be good or bad. Before she’d headed into surgery, Emma had also made her friends promise that if she didn’t come out, they’d look out for Caleb, Laura and Louise, and make sure Max didn’t make a cock-up of parenting them.

  They’d told her to stop being so pessimistic, but deep down they knew they’d do whatever it took. Did that give them the right to tell Max to take a hike? Only for the benefit of Emma’s children did Flick swallow her desire to do exactly that. He might be a total dick sometimes—okay, most of the time—but he was still their dad and for that reason alone she’d put up with him.

  ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ Seb said, his voice calm and his smile reassuring as he walked around the row of chairs to the girls. He pulled them into a group hug and they clung to him, taking some of the support their own father should have been offering. ‘Hospitals aren’t train stations. They don’t always run according to schedule. No news is good news.’

  Although Flick wasn’t sure if that was the case when it came to brain surgery, the girls perked up at Seb’s theory and she flashed him a grateful smile. He always knew the right things to say and truly would be the perfect guy … if he didn’t actually think himself a woman. Her stomach contorted at this thought, and that made her angry.

  Her head had accepted the program, why couldn’t her body keep up?

  Before she could contemplate this question, another doctor appeared and this time she recognised him as the surgeon in charge of Emma’s operation. One look at the smile on his face and relief flooded her body. That wasn’t the grin of a man about to be the bearer of bad news.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ he said, coming over and addressing the group. This added to Flick’s good feeling, because if what he had to say wasn’t good, he’d take her and Neve aside to speak privately, wouldn’t he? Still, she held her breath as she waited for the news.

  ‘I’m pleased to report that Emma is in recovery and should return to the ward within the next few hours.’

  Flick puffed
out a breath in perfect time with the others. They all looked at each other, their grins positively bursting.

  The doctor looked pleased at this response. ‘I’m sorry things took a little longer than we expected. I’ll be honest, it was touch and go there for a moment, but Emma is a fighter.’

  ‘Touch and go?’ Flick didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

  The doctor’s expression turned solemn. He nodded. ‘Yes, there was a difficult moment on the operating table.’

  Difficult moment? Did that mean they’d almost lost her? A chill descended over Flick’s body, gooseflesh sprouting on her arms and at the back of her neck. Jumping to the same conclusion she had, the twins sobbed.

  ‘But she’s okay now, right?’ Flick asked, wanting reassurance for herself as much as for the girls.

  Again the doctor smiled. ‘Yes. We got her back. We managed to remove the tumour and although her journey to full recovery will take a while, I’m pleased with the outcome of today’s surgery. Now, unless you have any further questions, I must go. It’ll be a good few hours before Emma is up to visitors and even then, the nurses on the ward will limit it to one or two people for small snatches of time. Emma will be very tired and will need her rest.’

  The last line sounded like a reprimand and they all nodded like chastised children.

  When the surgeon left, the small circle of friends broke into hugs. Toby slapped Caleb on the back in an adolescent male show of support and then Caleb yanked his twin sisters into a hug, something he rarely did for fear of appearing uncool. Seb and Patrick even hugged but Max looked a little uncomfortable at all this emotion.

  Flick wiped happy tears from her eyes as she pulled back from Neve’s embrace and then lost herself in Seb’s a moment later. ‘She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay,’ she whispered over and over again, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted.